“No, now it’s a report.”
She smiled and forced herself to walk away.For crying out loud, get over him, Lila. He’s leaving. Do you understand? Leaving!
“What’s the matter, Lila?” Polly asked. She walked up the hall with knitting needles and a half-finished project draped over one shoulder. A ball of yarn was in her sweater’s pocket. “You look down-trodden.”
“I do?” Lila said. “I don’t mean to. I’m just… confused about something. But I’ll figure it out.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will, dear. When I’m confused, I knit.”
“That’s great,” Lila said with a laugh. “I’ve never knitted or crocheted in my life. My mother loves it, though.”
“Of course she does, it’s relaxing! You could start a knitting circle here. Say, in the evenings, with coffee and goodies.”
“Polly…” Lila began carefully. “You forget this isn’t my shop.”
“Oh, that’s right. It’s Tilly and Jack’s. But if you ever have your own place one day, you should. Knitting and crochet nights, would be a big hit, I promise.”
“Maybe so.”
“Of course they would. You could also serve tea and cookies, maybe add painting or quilting classes… the sky’s the limit, dear.” Polly smiled, kept knitting, and ambled down the hall.
Lila watched her go, amused and thoughtful. Maybe she should take up knitting. Then she’d have something to do if she became an old maid.
Lila watched Polly disappear down the hall, the steady click of knitting needles fading with her.
When the shop finally emptied for the night, Lila turned off the lights and stepped outside. The air was crisp, the street quiet except for the soft hum of a car passing by. She locked the door, pocketed the key, and started the short walk home.
Her little rental sat several blocks away, a tidy two-story cottage with lace curtains and flower boxes she never remembered to water. Inside, everything was neat. Her sofa was draped with a crocheted throw her mother made. A single lamp glowed on the side table. Her favorite books were stacked in little piles here and there. Ulysses was curled up on his favorite rug near the radiator.
It was cozy. Peaceful. And achingly quiet.
Lila kicked off her shoes, hung her jacket over a chair, and stood in the middle of her living room. The silence pressed in around her. For a long moment she just stared at the worn rug, then the teapot on the stove in the nearby kitchen. After that it was an untouched stack of magazines on the coffee table.
Is this it? If nothing changed, she could very well end up content but alone. Trying to fill evenings with knitting and memories.
Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to TJ. His easy laugh, the steady confidence, the way he looked at her when she got flustered. Ridiculous, she scolded herself. He was leaving. He belonged to another world. A bigger, broader one she’d never even seen.
And yet the image of him lingered.
An emptiness settled low in her stomach, heavier than she cared to admit. She exhaled, turned off the lamp, and whispered to the dark, “You’ve got to stop this, Lila.”
But she wasn’t sure she could.
Chapter Eleven
The Harvest Festival was being held at one end of Old Town, near a parking lot. Lila had to put together not just the booth itself but all the decorations too. Thank goodness Tilly and Jack had a generator they could use to keep the coffee hot.
She’d just started loading her car when TJ showed up. “Hello,” he greeted.
Lila jumped. She had no idea why. She’d seen him pull into the lot in front of Pleasant Beans. “Hi.”
“What are you doing?”
“Getting ready to go set things up.” She straightened, turned to him, and smiled. “Here to get coffee?”
“Yes, and to help you, if you’d like.”
“That bored, eh?”
